In the Space Between Chaos and Shape
by Imogen74
Summary: Verse-like. Jane feels a bit abandoned by Loki...and his return is much more than she ever dreamed. Lokane. T.
1. Chapter 1

_This is probably a one shot...if I receive some requests to further it, I might. But I found this quote, and it needed sorting._

"_Live in the space between chaos and shape. I walk the line that continually threatens to lose its tautness under me, dropping me into the dark pit where there is no meaning. At other times the line is so wired that it lights up the soles of my feet, gradually my whole body, until I am my own beacon, and I see then the beauty of newly created worlds, a form that is not random. A new beginning."_

_― Jeanette Winterson, The World and Other Places: Stories_

The only sound was her beating heart. The only movement her rising and falling chest as the dawn made its song a tender event in the sky of raw and thorny pilgrimage.

Of course, she knew the place of her wandering, she was familiar with the potency of regret. Yet in the soft space of morning, her tendrils of placation subdued even the most dire of dreams.

She understood, as age laid waste to her body. She conceded her regret and boasted triumph. She merely desired a place of peace, and though she had many miles ahead of her, she wasn't without hope.

Jane got up.

Her feet hit the floor.

She began a motion of acceptance and moved to her kitchen (a paltry excuse for one, really), and brewed her coffee.

Often her thoughts would drift from the specks of light which dotted the desert sky. More often than not, the sun would impede her musings and make her tongue taste the sand whipped from the earth in mocking salute. Yes, she fretted over her publications. But in the quiet, she fretted more over the inexplicable tendency toward morbid fantasy, swimming its shape in hateful disgust.

He had visited her once.

It had been, she feared, a mistake.

But he was able, and he had helped her in her pursuit of the heavens.

He gave her answers.

Why did she wish to know.

She had shrugged her response glibly.

Her insatiable need for answers had brought it on, and she told herself that she only sought that. She told herself...and lied.

What it was she couldn't say. He was chaos in godlike shape.

But he had stayed for a night, taking his sleep on her sofa.

He told her he needed to flee his family, and wanted to ensure that, should he require it, he had a safe haven on Midgard.

And he left, telling her that perhaps, one day, he would return.

Jane was the shape to the chaos.

She existed too far to one side.

She existed. She existed...but she barely lived.

Her disdain for others grew...it fed on her impatience...and like a fool, she bent hungrily. Nothing, never more, a black bird once cried, and in the bleak bright of the landscape her eyes would strain in hopeful watch.

Absurd in her useless quest, her fret taunted her in gleeful mirth.

She could leave, she thought. She could go and take a job at a university somewhere.

A minute to a god could be a pitiful half life to a human.

Insofar as she held her watch, Jane never panicked.

She should go...useless in her enterprise and fearful in her passivity.

* * *

The day droned on.

Algorithms danced in trepidation.

So Poe- like and plaintive, Jane made herself go to bed.

It was seven at night.

In her dreams, she had the answers.

In her dreams, she flew.

And though the chaos she longed for never presented, it was felt, along the periphery of speculation.

It banged.

She woke.

Again, it filled the room...loud and demanding.

She looked at the time. 2am.

Jane got up.

Went to her kitchen and grabbed a knife.

She crept to the door, holding the weapon with white knuckles and shaking hand.

She swallowed her fear. It tasted like aluminum.

The door was thrown open so that any attacker wielding a gun would have a clear shot of her torso.

But she saw a tallish figure, imposing himself in her doorway.

The knife fell.

Her mouth went dry.

"Are you ready?" Loki asked.

And she nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

Was she ready.

What an interesting thought.

She had been ever-so-ready for longer than it took her to realize her propensity for star examination.

She hesitated.

Her feet were cold.

"I need to get some things."

He nodded, understanding the mortal frame to be rather soft in its ability to withstand any element or injury.

Jane shuffled and quickly procured some things: a hoodie. Her notebook. First aid kit. Her calculator. Two changes of clothes.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

She changed into some sweat pants and boots.

She swung the bag on her back.

And he stood frozen in his observance of her.

She left and clicked the door shut behind her.

He walked a slight distance and held his hand out to her.

She took it.

And she folded.

Aghast and embittered and swallowing it whole she choked on the task of space and time.

Speaking softly to her soul, the fallow haunt of distance spread before her in endless nebula.

Her feet found an earth, and she retched up the contents of her stomach and mind.

Virginal her want elevated, and she looked around.

She had no idea where she was.

And for a moment, Loki was not there.

And then he was.

He smiled at her in anticipation.

"What do you think?"

"It's…incredible…"

Jane's eyes were nimble in their navigation.

The colors of the place were brilliant.

The song loud in the expanse.

And fruited trees hung their branches in low prayer at the alter of the sky.

"And we are in…" Jane began.

"Alfheim…home of the Light Elves."

She nodded her understanding.

They began their cautious walk.

She suspected he had a motive.

Did she care if he did?

Not really…her curious heart bade her on.

A lake formed its shape before her eyes.

Jane made her way toward it.

Water escaped from a fall to the right, its chaos a cacophonous trumpet in her ears.

Her own meagre shape took to the body, and she bent down into the cool liquid.

Her hand graced the glass of the break of water, and she smiled as its cool form kissed her.

"And what do you think of the waters of enchantment?"

"It is enchanted?"

Loki nodded.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Drink of it, and you shall harbor your own magic."

Her eyes widened.

Her breath stole.

Her heart pulsed its beat in ferocity.

"I shall possess magic?"

He nodded.

Trust not the lie smith, a warning spoke in her left ear.

But Jane's undoing had always been her curious nature, and she could not suffer ignorance.

Her hands cupped their shape, and she drank the liquid deeply.

…and what can be said of her state?

Brightness.

Newness.

Solitude.

Effervescence.

Light.

She looked up and saw Loki looking at her, beaming.

She stood, and no weight was to be felt on her bones.

Her head was tossed backwards, and she breathed in the crisp air surrounding the water.

"And now, my fellow sorceress…you and I shall navigate these Realms…your magic will need to be honed and cultivated…but we shall strike down any foe…and I shall ensure your safety, as you shall ensure mine…and though you are not immortal, your magic will provide you with an unnaturally long mortal life…and we shall traverse the yawn of time together…"

That was his design.

A partner.

A fellow.

A spouse, of sorts.

Her eyes were not quite brown any longer.

Her hair more pale in its salt.

And she smiled at him, took his hand.

They vanished to parts unknown.


	3. Chapter 3

It had never been her design to be a magic holder.

To contain depths such as that truly was beyond anything she desired.

But Jane was without restraint now, her being circumvented chance.

An obstacle.

Her adventure lay within herself.

Her duty to him and her alone.

Was she brittle in her allegiance?

Was she taciturn in her loyalty?

True, he was a spectre of thought.

Yes, he held a certain wariness in his air.

A villain, perhaps, even…

But his essence, Jane saw, was ebullience.

Not per the joyful side, but energy fought entropy and vivacity won.

His hand always held hers, therein she found comfort.

His voice always full of authority, therein she found confidence.

And as they discovered that which the Nine held in glorious wonder, Jane found that she only needed him.

A sordid realization.

And when that thought bore signs of more, she recoiled.

Only when she gave herself leave to allow it its creep did she falter.

The moons of Anaheim hung low in the empyrean indigo ceiling of sky.

Jane lost her words as she sat under a tree whose roots tangled in furious confusion against her.

How it came to pass she couldn't say…but only to her own mind would she concede defeat.

It needed to be spoken to allow it its life, and how he would respond she knew not.

He emerged from the close trees behind, snapping some branches with his movement.

He sat next to Jane, and handed her a bouquet.

It was filled with tiny white blossoms, and sprayed with green leaves.

He smiled.

She returned it.

He locked his hand in hers.

She squeezed her fingers in response.

And Loki leaned toward her in the moonlight, his lips danced across hers, and soon seized upon them with command and possession.

And though neither said a word, an understanding took place by that ancient tree of Anaheim.

An understanding of kinship.

Of commonality.

Of magic, for they both possessed it.

And even…the susurrus of her mind spoke…of love.

Love, and yes, she knew that he was wise to it.

And in the harmonic dance of time, they spent their magic in gleeful measure.

They mingled with moons and sang of stars…

And the shape of their connection swayed in recurrence to the chaos of Loki.


End file.
